


As Long As I Breathe

by reellifejaneway



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Awkward Romance, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Love Confessions, Reunions, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reellifejaneway/pseuds/reellifejaneway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus Vakarian rejoins the crew of the Normandy SR2 after the fall of Palaven. After so many months apart, to be with Shepard again is a long-awaited bliss – but does Shepard still feel that way about him?  The words that have been burning a hole in his heart finally escape him, but not in the way Garrus planned... </p>
<p>A fluffy drabble encouraged by the wonderful wardencommandervakarian on Tumblr. Garrus Vakarian and the Normandy belong to Bioware. Sonia Shepard in her craziness belongs to me. I’m just a fangirl who can’t let go...</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long As I Breathe

It all felt so far away.

The images of burning flesh; the permeating stench of putrid smoke, singed metal and spilled fuel... Somehow the gentle brush of her hair against his chin, the hint of ozone in her scent, the reassuring rise and fall of her chest against his, chased those memories away. Even if it was only for a moment, he was grateful.

His gloved talons gently caressed her bicep, noting with satisfaction that Shepard leaned back into him trustingly. Her cropped scarlet hair framed her face so well that from this angle Garrus could hardly see her eyes, save for the faintest flicker of dark lashes whenever she blinked. She was studying the book in her hands intently. So intently, in fact, that she had not yet realized that his full attention was on her instead of the military reports he had so fervently insisted on reading.

She was striking in the dimmed light of the Normandy’s lounge. Her BDU-clad legs were crossed, comfortably propped up on the armrest at the other end of the couch. She was small and certainly not as muscular or as resilient as Turian women. But Shepard’s features were enticingly smooth and slender – misleadingly so. Far too often Garrus had seen an unsuspecting merc fall victim to her delicate demeanour. But _he_ knew. Beneath the Adept’s silky skin lurked the soul of a dragon. Her wrath was a mad, brutal creature coiled in wait, claws of biotic lightning ever at the ready.

And that was _exactly_ why he loved her.

Shepard was beyond beautiful to his eyes, but usually that cunning smile was hidden behind a mask of rage, of vengeance. Garrus knew he was the only one who she ever let see her like this: the _real_ Sonia Shepard. Not the notorious ‘Butcher of Torfan’. Not the gang-running rebel or the angry soul who fought to avenge the lives of her parents, her dead sister, stolen childhood and pain-ridden past – but the vulnerable, loving woman who had trusted him enough to let him catch the faintest glimpse of her secret beauty.

Something must have changed in his posture, in his rhythmic massaging of her bicep. Shepard’s breathing hitched, and with a move that was far too graceful and smooth, she shifted in his lap.

“What are you thinking about?” Sonia murmured, shooting him a rare half-smile.

Garrus’ heart squeezed at that sight. It had been far too long since they had been together like this. Between Palaven and the Alliance, the separation had been painfully long for the both of them. It had been torture to return to a military life he had left behind years before, especially knowing that Shepard was locked away in a prison somewhere on Earth. It nearly killed Garrus to hear the first reports from Earth – to hear that the Reapers had invaded and he was helpless to reach her.

And then, by some strange miracle, on Menae he had caught a glimpse of a familiar, armoured silhouette against a backdrop of smoke and death. A halo of shimmering biotic energy, a sly quirk of her cheek, the faint echo of a promise that burned him to the core, a voice that dropped to torturous, dangerous depths... Just the knowing twinkle in Shepard’s gaze had tempted him to sweep her in his arms right then, regardless of who might have been watching. Instead Garrus had simply nodded and told her it was good to see her again. The fumbling reunion could wait until they had found somewhere more private.

Now, as the faint blue light bounced off the Normandy’s hull and danced against her face, Garrus reached out to cup her cheek tenderly. “I was just thinking how lucky I am.”

Sonia’s green eyes flickered with silent laughter. “Smooth talker.”

“But you’ve got to admit,” he quirked his mandibles, much to her amusement, “you’ve missed this.”

“Being here with you, listening to your corny lines? Beats an Alliance prison cell any day.” Shepard winked and pressed a fleeting kiss to his rough cheek. “And if that datapad is any indication, then I’d say you agree with me.”

Garrus followed the direction of her gaze, realising with sudden embarrassment that he was still reading the first report – worse, the first page. “Spirits. Six months is too long, Shepard. You’ve crippled me already and I’ve only been here a day.”

Sonia tucked her legs up into her stomach, curling into a cosy ball beneath his chin. She extended one hand, gently grasping his datapad and raising it to her eye level auspiciously. “Let’s see, shall we? Perhaps you’ll find it more palatable if it comes in my voice.”

That brought an approving growl from the Turian. He shifted slightly, easing his long arms around her waist comfortably. “Mmhmm,” he purred in her ear. “It sounds better already.”

“Uh-huh.” The redhead raised one brow at him before commencing her steady recitation of his reports.

Garrus listened intently for the first two minutes, but then he became distracted by her lips, and the fascinating way in which they moved to form the words. It was one feature about her that he never ceased to be amazed by – her mouth was so small and soft in comparison to his. Sonia’s lips, painted a vivid shade of red, baffled him. How was it that her mouth could be so malleable, so pliant, and yet so expert at producing that gorgeous voice of hers? How had she learned to kiss him when his plated skin must have felt so foreign, so hard and different to her own? And why was it that the memory of her lips on his was enough to drive him wild?

It wasn’t until a full minute later that Garrus realised Shepard had, once again, stopped reading. Now Sonia’s piercing emerald eyes were locked on his in open question.

“There is clearly something very interesting going on in that head of yours,” she quipped, “but I have the nagging suspicion that you’re not going to tell me.”

“I love you.”

Those defined brows shot up, her chin slackening slightly in shock. “You... You love me?”

Garrus blinked, silently berating himself for letting it just slip out like that. He had thought it, _spirits_ , he’d been thinking it for months now. But suddenly she was here, staring up at him so contentedly and the thought had somehow escaped him. “I was... I was trying to... To save it for a, well,” he resisted the urge to look away from her quizzical stare, “a more opportune moment. But it seems that my mind had other ideas.”

Sonia’s cheeks had coloured with an endearing shade of pink, the faint dusting of freckles across her nose fading into the gentle peach blush. “But you _love_ me?”

_Is she flinching?_ “Did I say it wrong?” Garrus asked sheepishly, mentally berating himself for his own impulsiveness. “Shepard, I—”

A slender, white finger pressed up against his mouth then. It was followed by a brushing kiss from a pair of smooth, satiny lips.

“Garrus, sweetie,” Sonia murmured hazily, “do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that?”

He stared down at her, blue eyes widening in astonishment. “So... You don’t mind?”

“ _Mind_!” She pulled back, allowing her hand to linger on his carapace. “Why would I mind?”

“I thought – I was under the impression that humans don’t usually say that to each other unless they want some form of commitment, and not all humans find that appealing,” Garrus admitted sheepishly. “But... But it’s something that I’ve been thinking to myself for a while now. I didn’t mean for it to come out quite so, uh, artlessly.”

“And you thought I would react badly to the idea of being with only you? That I wouldn’t want commitment...?”

“You’ve never talked about it before, so… Maybe.” He bowed his head, staring up at her from beneath his visor sheepishly.

Shepard cocked her brow. “Vids?”

“Yeah – vids.” Garrus let out a throaty chuckle.

Sonia smiled openly then, “Well, allow me to make a few corrections to your knowledge of _this_ human’s customs.” She pressed a fleeting kiss to the very tip of his mandible. “’I love you’ is the most powerful, most evocative phrase a lover can tell another—” then, dotting kisses along his neck, “—but it doesn’t scare me. Because, Garrus Vakarian,” Shepard paused to punctuate each word with a sweep of her lips against his, “loving you, being committed to you, _does not scare me_.”

Garrus’ eyes softened, his hands pulling her tighter against him. “Shepard… Sonia.”

She shivered at the wonderful hum to her name as it rolled off his tongue.

He glanced down to where her hands lingered on his cowl. “Can I start again?”

Nodding, her voice little more than a rush of whispered anticipation, “Yes.”

“Sonia Shepard.” Garrus traced her jaw with one talon, watching her shiver at his touch. “I love you.”

She cupped his face in her hands, resting her forehead against his tenderly. “I love you too, Garrus Vakarian.”

Sonia kissed him softly, relishing the vibrations that hummed from Garrus and cascaded through her body. The reports were long forgotten now. With each kiss, each caress and whisper, they were re-learning each other, melding back into a familiar embrace that had grown cold after such a lengthy separation. What once felt so natural now burned, an old waltz renewed into a spiralling tango so perfect in its intensity that neither truly wanted to break free.

It feels like hours have passed before Sonia finally pulls back, her emerald eyes hazy with lust. Their breaths mingle, hands clinging on out of desperation and need. Gently stroking her fingers through his fringe, Sonia nestles her head against Garrus’ neck.

“My heart was yours the moment you stepped onto the Normandy,” she whispered, her words burning into him and sealing themselves upon his soul. “I offered it to you freely, Garrus. And it will be for yours for as long as I breathe.”


End file.
